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ANTONY'S ORATION OVER CAESAR'S BODY.

Friends, Romans, Countrymen Lend me your ears.
I come to bury Caesar not to praise him.
The evil that men do, lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones:
So let it be with Caesar ! Noble Brutus
Hath told you Caesar was ambitious.
If it were so, it was a grievous fault;
And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it.
Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest,
For Brutus is an honorable man, -
So are they all, all honorable men,
Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral.-

He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.
He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:
Did this in Caesar seem ambitious 2
When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.
You all did see that on the Lupercal,
I thrice presented him a kingly crown;
Which he did thrice refuse: Was this ambition?
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And sure, he is an honorable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke;
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once; not without cause;
What cause withholds you then to mourn for him ;
O judgment ' Thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason. Bear with me,
My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar;
And I must pause till it come back to me.

But yesterday the word of Caesar, might
Have stood against the world ! Now lies he there
And none so poor to do him reverence.
O Masters . If I were dispos'd to stir

Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong;
Who, you all know, are honorable men.
I will not do them wrong—I rather choose w
To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you,
Than I will wrong such honorable men.
But here's a parchment, with the seal of Caesar;
I found it in his closet: 'tis his will.
Let but the commons hear this testament,
Which pardon me I do not mean to read,
And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds,
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood—
Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,
And, dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it as a rich legacy, -
Unto their issue—
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
You all do know this mantle: I remember
The first time ever Caesar put it on;
'Twas on a summer's evening in his tent,
That day he overcame the Nervii
Look! In this place ran Cassius' dagger through—
See what a rent the envious Casca made
Through this the well beloved Brutus stabb'd;
And, as he plucked his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Caesar follow'd it !
This, this was the unkindest cut of all !
For when the noble Caesar saw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's arms,
Quite vanquished him : Then burst his mighty heart!
And in his mantle muffling up his face,
E’en at the base of Pompey's statue,
Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell.
O what a fall was there, my countrymen
Then I and you and all of us fell down;
Whilst bloody treason flourished over us.
O, now you weep; and I perceive you feel
The dint of pity! These are gracious drops.
Kind souls : What, weep you when you but behold
Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look ye here !—

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Here is himself—marr'd as you see, by traitors.
Good friends ! Sweet friends ! Let me not stir you up
To any sudden flood of Mutiny
They that have done this deed are honorable
What private griefs they have, alas I know not,
That made them do it ! They are wise and honorable,
And will, no doubt, with reason answer you. -
I come not friends, to steal away your hearts!
I am no orator, as Brutus is;
But as you know me all, a plain blunt man
That love my friend—and that they know full well,
That gave me public leave to speak of him
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
To stir men's blood—I only speak right on.
I tell you that which you yourselves do know—
Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor poor dumb
mouths,
And bid them speak for me. But, were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue
In every wound of Caesar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny. s

EULOGY PRONOUNCED AT THE CITY of WASHINGTON, Oct. 19, 1826. By WILLIAM WIRT.

The scenes which have been lately passing in our country, and of which this meeting is a continuance, are full of moral instruction. They hold up to the world a lesson of wisdom by which all may profit, if Heaven shall grant them the discretion to turn it to its use. The spectacle, in all its parts, has indeed, been most solemn and impressive; and though the first impulse be now past, the time has not yet come, and never will it come, when we can contemplate it, without renewed emotion.

In the structure of their characters; in the course of their action; in the striking coincidences which marked their high career; in the lives and in the deaths of the illustrious men, whose virtues and services we have met to commemorate—and in that voice of admiration and gratitude which has since burst, with one accord, from the twelve millions of freemen who people these States, there is a moral sublimity which overwhelms the mind, and hushes all its powers into silent amazement

The European, who should have heard the sound without apprehending the cause, would be apt to inquire, “What is the meaning of all this? what had these men done to elicit this unanimous and splendid acclamation ? Why has the whole American nation risen up, as one man, to do them honor, and offer to them this enthusiastic homage of the heart? Were they mighty warriors, and was the peal that we have heard, the shout of victory? Were they great commanders, returning from their distant conquests, surrounded with the spoils of war, and was this the sound of their triumphal procession ? Were they covered with martial glory in any form, and was this “the noisy wave of the multitude rolling back at their approach 3’” Nothing of all this: No; they were peaceful and aged patriots, who, having served their country together, through their long and useful lives, had now sunk together to the tomb. They had not fought battles; but they had formed and moved the great machinery of which battles were only a small, and, comparatively, trivial consequence. They had not commanded armies; but they had commanded the master springs of the nation, on which all its great political, as well as military movements depended. By the wisdom and energy of their counsels, and by the potent mastery of their spirits, they had contributed pre-eminently to produce a mighty Revolution, which has changed the aspect of the world. A Revolution which, in one half of that world has already restored man to his “long-lost liberty;” and government to its only legitimate object, the happiness of the People: and, on the other hemisphere, has thrown a light so strong, that even the darkness of despotism is beginning to recede. Compared with the solid glory of an achievement like this, what are battles, and what the pomp of war, but the poor and fleeting pageants of a theatre : What were the selfish and petty strides of Alexander to conquer a little section of a savage world, compared with this generous, this magnificent advance towards the emancipation of the entire world ! And this, be it remembered, has been the fruit of intellectual exertion the triumph of mind! What a proud

testimony does it bear to the character of our nation,

that they are able to make a proper estimate of services like these ! That while, in other countries, the senseless mob fall down in stupid admiration, before the bloody wheels of the conqueror—even of the conqueror by accident—in this, our People rise, with one accord, to pay their homage to intellect and virtue ! What a cheering pledge does it give of the stability of our institutions, that while abroad, the yet benighted multitude are prostrating themselves before the idols which their own hands have fashioned into Kings, here in this land of the free, our People are every where starting up with one impulse, to follow with their acclamations the ascending spirits of the great Fathers of the Republic : This is a spectacle of which we may be permitted to be proud. It honors our country no less than the illustrious dead. And could those great Patriots speak to us from the tomb, they would tell us that they have more pleasure in the testimony which these honors bear to the character of their country, than in that which they bear to their individual services. They now see as they were seen, while in the body, and know the nature of the feeling from which these honors flow. It is love

for love. It is the gratitude of an enlightened nation to the noblest order of benefactors. It is the only glory worth the aspiration of a generous spirit. Who would not prefer this living tomb in the hearts of his countrymen, to the proudest mausoleum that the Genius of Sculpture could erect

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